Coming to Terms
by AbominableSnowman23
Summary: Julie Yoast, Coach Yoast's seventeen year old daughter, is about to enter her senior year at T.C. Williams newly integrated high school. During this time, she has her own 'coming to terms' as she survives the football season and tackles Alexandria's prejudices alongside both friends and foes.
1. Meet Julie Yoast

To say that it was hot as hell outside probably would have been an understatement. It was hotter. I walked the familiar path from the parking lot to the football field with my kid sister in tow. We practically lived on the football field, even before Mama left us. But now it was just Sheryl, Coach, and I. A broken family held together by one thing: football. Daddy was the head coach of the Hammond football team. Sheryl, who was nine, helped Coach out with the team. And me, well, I preferred to observe. I was already made fun of enough for all the time I spent on the gridiron. I didn't need people thinking any less of me if they knew I could throw a football. Well, there was one person who knew; but I had sworn him to secrecy when we were little and so far, he hadn't betrayed my secret.

Sheryl ran ahead of me onto the practice field while I sat down on the nearest bench. I was here because I had to be, not because I wanted to be…or at least, that's what I wanted people to think. If I was being completely honest, I was really looking forward to seeing the team win this year. We had a good team. They were going to win state, I just knew it. As I sat down on the bench I adjusted my blouse which was sticking to skin, it was so humid. I reached into my bag and pulled out my copy of _Pride and Prejudice_ and began to fan myself with it. At least good literature was good for something, right? I'm just kidding. I'm a bit of a bookworm in between my tomboyish ways. Probably just another reason the girls make fun of me. I haven't exactly been trained to be ladylike or a future homemaker. Coach ain't much of a lady and Mama ain't around. So, I've been teaching myself. While my Mama may have abandoned us, she did have some influence over me and a love of literature was one of those things. But I would much rather read the book than fan myself with it. So I looked around me to see if there was anyone watching. The coast looked clear, so I dug in my bad once more and pulled out the Hammond baseball cap Coach had given me for my birthday two years ago. I piled my long sandy-blonde hair on the top of my head before pulling the cap over it before I opened my book up to the page I had marked.

_Pride and Prejudice_ was only my favorite books. I tried to read it at least once every summer break since I was fourteen. There's just something about Elizabeth Bennett's relationship with Mr. Darcy that makes one's heart swoon. While I had never gone steady with anyone, I really was a romantic at heart. It's not that I didn't want to go steady with anyone, it's just that…well, Coach could be a bit intimidating. I heard that Alan once was going to ask me to a dance, not even going steady or anything, just a dance; but whatever Coach told him convinced him not to. I tried talking to Coach about it, but he just denied anything ever happened. I still think Coach sees me as a little girl not as a near grown woman. I was going to be a senior in high school this year, not starting the third grade; but I suppose that's daddy's for you: overprotective. I adjusted the brim of my baseball cap before I turned my attention back to my book. I was to the part where Mr. Bingley came back for Jane. And soon I'd be to my favorite part: Elizabeth and Darcy finally admitting their love for each other. Sometimes I wish a Mr. Darcy would swoop-in and find me, but then I got a reality-check and realized that there were no Mr. Darcy's in front of me, especially not on the gridiron. I turned the page when I was rudely interrupted.

"Hey there, Julie," Gerry Bertier greeted me.

I looked up to find him standing right in front of me.

"You're blocking my sun," I commented.

Gerry chuckled to himself and sat right beside me on the bench. I rolled my eyes and turned so that my back was to him. I tried to continue reading my book, but he obviously wasn't giving up.

"What ya, readin'?" he asked.

"None of your beeswax, Bertier," I hissed.

"C'mon, Juju don't be rude. I'm sure Coach won't like about hearin' 'bout you bein' rude to his best player," he furthered.

"First of all, it's Julie. Ju—lee. Not Juju. Just because my kid sister calls me that, doesn't mean you get to. Second of all, the only way Coach would find out is if _you_ told him. Thirdly, if you really think you're his best player, you've got another thing coming," I retorted.

He remained silent for a moment while I hoped he didn't see through my lie. Gerry Bertier was by far Coach's best player, but there was no way in hell I was going to give him the satisfaction of thinking I thought so. Gerry Bertier was probably the most self-centered, egotistical, arrogant boy on the team. Well, besides Ray. Gerry and I were friends when we were younger. We both had a parent walk out on us, giving us something to bond over. But when we got to high school things changed. He became the popular, well-liked football player while our friendship was left trailing in his dust. Not to mention that his girlfriend was probably the person who hated me most. He claimed he was just in a hard place with Emma, but really he should just man-up and not let her dominate his life. But then again, going steady with someone meant that you had certain hold on someone else.

"You stayin' for practice?" Gerry asked breaking the silence.

"Always do," I muttered.

"Hey, I'm tryin' to be nice here," he continued.

"What would your girlfriend think of you bein' nice," I questioned.

Gerry didn't answer.

"That's what I thought," I stated.

I roughly stood up, not even noticing my book fall from my lap. I just wanted to get away from that boy who infuriated me. I stormed away from the immature football player across the field toward the table where my sister was filling up cups of water for the team. Coach was over there too, talking with her as she worked. I only hoped he didn't see me stomping away from Gerry, otherwise I was in for some trouble. But it's not like housework was much of a punishment. I already was doing most of the housework: cooking, cleaning, laundry, and babysitting; but Coach's silence and disappointed looks were enough to drive one mad. I was almost to the table when I hear Gerry Bertier calling my name from behind me. I groaned before I turned around to see him hurtling toward me, with my book in his hand. I stop and fold one arm across my chest while I hold the other one out for him to place the book in.

"You forgot this," he said.

"I can see that," I retorted.

"_Pride and Prejudice; _what's it about?" he asked.

"Something you can never possibly begin to understand," I said.

I snatched the book from his hand and gave him a fake smile before I turned around to continue toward my sister.

"You're welcome!" Gerry called after me.

I raised my hand in the air to acknowledge his response. If my sister and Coach hadn't been there, I would've considered being very unladylike and flipped him the bird; but I refrained. I walked over to the table and took one of the paper cups filled with water and easily downed it.

"Hey! That's for the team," Sheryl complained.

"I'm close enough to being part of the team," I responded.

Sheryl gave me a pointed look.

"You know what I mean," she muttered.

"Do I?" I furthered.

"You'd better be nicer to me or I'll tell Coach you was arguin' with Gerry Bertier again," she threatened.

Damn, she was good. For being nine, she was already becoming a professional at manipulation. But I really didn't want to get in trouble again. I was still in trouble from two practices ago for arguing with Gerry in front of Coach. For once I just wanted to be on Coach's good side.

"What do you want?" I whispered.

"Nothing now, but you'll know when I do," Sheryl stated.

"Fine," I muttered.

Coach walked up to us and wrapped his arm around my shoulders.

"Was that Gerry bringing you your book back?" Coach asked.

"Yes," I said shortly.

"Nice boy; he's a real nice boy," Coach stated.

I bit my tongue as Sheryl looked over to me with a smirk on her face. She's had it in her mind for years that Gerry and I were gonna wind up married someday. And the only way that would happen would be if hell froze over and he was the only man left on the planet…and even then it was still a slim chance. Coach patted my back before he walked away toward the field where his football players were beginning to huddle around the fifty-yard line. I looked back to my sister and she shook her head.

"There's no way this is gonna last," Sheryl said.

"You just do your part and keep your mouth shut," I responded.

"It's not me you need to worry about," Sheryl stated.

I ruffled my little sister's hair to which she responded by pushing me away. So I wrapped my arms around her, hugging her from behind.

"Juju, stop," Sheryl groaned. "I'm tryin' to watch."

"They just started. I doubt anything interesting will happen anytime soon," I responded.

"Let go," Sheryl said.

I released my sister and placed a kiss on the top of her head before I told her to get a drink. In this heat one had to drink plenty of water.

"You ain't my mom," Sheryl said.

"Good as," I muttered.

Sheryl rolled her eyes as she plopped herself in front of the water table to watch the practice. I sat on the grass too, but I turned my back to the practice and opened my book again.

"C'mon Kurt, don't let Ray back you down like that!" Sheryl shouted.

"I'm trying to read," I hissed at her.

She turned around and stuck her tongue out at me, before she went back to watching the team practice.

"You're twice his size!" Sheryl groaned.

"Sheryl!" I hissed.

"Aargh, what are they doing?" Sheryl shouted, not even responding to me.

I turned around to see Gerry sack Alan. As much as I loathed Gerry, he was going to lead this team to victory this year.

"If they keep playing like that, we'll lose every game!" Sheryl fumed.

"I didn't think that was so bad," I said.

"Shows what you know," Sheryl said rolling her eyes.

"Hey, I've been on a football field since before you were born," I argued.

"I thought you didn't care about football," She quipped.

"I—I don't," I stuttered.

"Mhmm, right, you keep telling yourself that," Sheryl said rolling her eyes.

"I don't," I muttered, more for myself than for Sheryl.

Suddenly, one of the senior boys who wasn't out for football, but was still considered a jock, came running down the field. He was screaming at the top of his lungs for the other boys to get down to the store. Something was happening, but after that, the only words I could make out were colored and shot. Not good. A colored kid had recently been shot and now the town was up in arms, especially with the forced integration they were planning. Everyone was tense. Coach was even tense, but he tried not to let it show by forcing himself into his work: football. Without even listening to a word Coach was saying, the boys took off in a sprint headed for downtown. Coach Herb came running for us. He grabbed Sheryl's arm to drag her away and told me to follow. We walked back to the school and into Coach's office. I opened the door and stopped suddenly in my tracks, causing Sheryl to run into my backside. I definitely wasn't expecting someone to be standing in my father's office; especially not _him._


	2. The New Assistant

I stared at the colored man standing in front of me with my mouth gaping. He was nicely dressed in a suit coat and tie playing with a football in his hands. The only problem was he was standing at my daddy's desk playing with his championship ball from last year. Of course the man probably didn't know, but who in his right mind would play with someone else's belongings? Sheryl tried to push me away, but I stood my ground. She groaned before she side-stepped me and looked right at the man before us.

"Who are you?" Sheryl blurted.

"Sheryl, that's rude," I reprimanded her.

"Do you know who he is?" Sheryl asked me.

"Of course I don't," I scoffed.

"Then are you gonna ask who he is or not?" Sheryl hissed.

"If you'd give me a minute to talk to him," I whispered.

The man nodded his head toward us before he tossed the football once more in his hands. I pulled Sheryl in front of me and placed my hands on her shoulders, practically digging my fingernails into her shoulders. She groaned in pain as she tried to swat my hands away, but I moved my grip from her shoulders to yanking on the back of her overalls. She still tried to fight to get away from me, but this time she was trapped. The man in front of us looked at us oddly before I figured I should speak.

"Sorry for my sister's lack of manners," I apologized.

"She's young yet," the man spoke as he shrugged his shoulders.

"If you don't mind me asking, who are you?" I asked.

"Herman Boone, new assistant coach," the man said proudly. "And yourself?"

"I'm Julie and this is Sheryl," I introduced.

"Nice to meet you Julie and Sheryl," The man said with a slight smile on his face.

"Wish I could say the same," I muttered.

"Excuse me?" he asked.

But I never responded to him because I looked beyond him and out the window. Through the blinds I could see my daddy's truck pulling back into the parking lot. As much as this man standing in my daddy's office bothered me, I was quite curious to see what had taken place. Right now Alexandria drama seemed a little more interesting than a man who was threatening my daddy's job.

"If you'll excuse me, I need a drink of water," I said.

"No you don't," Sheryl said bluntly.

"Yes, I do," I said through gritted teeth.

I pulled Sheryl by her overalls out of the office, leaving the new coach standing alone in my daddy's office. I released my sister as we began to walk down the hallway.

"I know you're not thirsty," Sheryl hissed.

"You're right I lied; but Coach is back," I stated.

Sheryl's interest piqued as she began running down the hall. We found Coach Tyrell waiting by the door which Coach was going to walk through. He attempted to tell us to go back to Coach's office, but the door flung open before he could enforce what he was telling us to do. Coach walked through the door with Alan, Gerry, Ray, and John. Alan noticed me standing there. He smiled and nodded his head at me. John and Ray simply nodded their heads, while Gerry ignored me. It was as if he only noticed me if no one was around; but I suppose right now he was just too pissed off to even notice me. Sheryl and I ran to catch up with Coach, who was followed by Coach Tyrell and the boys. As I ran to catch-up, I ran into Gerry. He glanced over to me but didn't say anything as Coach Tyrell began talking to him while I passed him to walk next to my father.

"Gerry, son, your heart's in the right place, but you ought to know better than to embarrass the coach like that," Coach Tyrell spoke.

I looked back at Gerry, but his face was like stone. He scowled for a moment before he began to talk.

"Hell, why don't you just kick them all off the team?" Gerry sneered. "I don't want to play with any of those black animals."

Gerry finished his sentence as we rounded the corner into Coach's office and what would you know? The colored man who claimed to be the new assistant coach was still standing in there holding that damn football. He must have heard Bertier because he was looking right at our group in the doorway. Everyone's eyes widened at the sight of him, well everyone except for Sheryl and me. Seeing as we had already met the man.

"Whoa!" Alan commented.

"Bertier," I hissed.

"I see him," Gerry scoffed.

Daddy stood the closest to the stranger in the office, while Coach Tyrell stood back a few steps with his arms folded across his chest. He was clearly trying to intimidate the man.

"Who are you?" Coach Tyrell blurted.

"As I already told the young ladies, I'm Herman Boone. I'm the new assistant coach," the man spoke.

"Julie, you and your sister go for a little walk," Coach said.

I stood there and waited for him to dismiss the boys, but he didn't. Coach pushed Sheryl over to me.

"What about them?" I asked as I nodded to the boys.

"You're my daughter and that was an order," Coach stated.

"Fine, but what about them?" I questioned again.

"You worry about you and your sister and do as you're told," Coach said firmly.

"This is completely unfair," I muttered.

Coach shot me a look and I knew that was my last cue to take Sheryl and leave without facing repercussions. Hell, I was probably already facing them for acting disrespectful in front of a complete stranger. But it wasn't fair that the boys got to stay in there. Sheryl and I walked out of the office and into the hallway. I leaned up against the locker closest to the door, knocking my head backward onto it. Sheryl leaned against the locker across the hallway from me.

"Why don't you go for a walk or something," I suggested.

"I'm not going if you're not," Sheryl sassed.

"You're younger and should do as you're told," I hissed.

"So should you," Sheryl retorted.

"Well it's not fair that he lets them boys be in there. I'm older than Alan and he gets to be in there," I rationalized.

"Coach isn't gonna be happy when he finds out you're listening," Sheryl stated.

"You're annoying, you know that?" I questioned.

"So are you. But I'm nine, what's your excuse?" Sheryl said rolling her eyes.

"Fine, how 'bout this: we both stay here and listen and no one does any tattling? Deal?" I suggested.

"Deal," she said.

"Good, now get over here and be quiet," I whispered.

Sheryl quickly tiptoed across the hallway and we both inched closer to the office door. Sheryl stood the closest and I stood behind her, leaning slightly over her trying to hear what they were saying in there. I poked my head over the corner to see into the office, but the colored man noticed me and raised his eyebrows at me. I quickly pulled my head back; there wasn't much of a prayer to get a good look in there. We were stuck just with listening.

"I won a couple of titles down in North Carolina," the new coach stated.

"That's double "A" ball," Coach Tyrell scoffed. "This here's Virginia. We play triple "A" ball."

"What an opportunity for me then…" the new coach started before pausing for a moment. "To learn…from the best."

"Well, I think that's enough for today," Coach said. "I'm sure we'll be in touch."

I could tell that Coach was trying to dismiss the man as civilly as he could; but I could tell from his tone that he was none too happy about the last part. I heard the man thank Coach for allowing him a moment of his time before his footsteps could be heard coming closer toward them. I quickly pulled Sheryl away from the corner and slid to the floor.

"Act natural," I hissed at Sheryl.

Sheryl nodded and followed my direction as she slid to the floor. I then slid her across the tile floor so that she sat in between my legs as I began to braid her hair which was already pulled back in a ponytail. The colored coach walked out and looked down both directions of the hallway before he looked down to Sheryl and I on the floor. I pretended not to notice and focus on Sheryl's unruly hair while my younger sister sat with her head in her hands while I played with her hair. Sheryl looked up at the man and he nodded his head.

"Your secret is safe with me ladies," the man stated.

"What secret?" Sheryl asked innocently.

"I've been sittin' here fixin' my sister's hair," I added.

"You girls may be able to fool your daddy with that act, but you can't fool me," the man said.

"You gonna do anything about it?" I asked.

"Not now," he said.

"Good to know," I stated.

I looked up to him and nodded my head. He pretended to have a hat on his head to tip forward before he walked down the hallway, headed straight for the door. Sheryl and I still continued to sit on the floor while I played with her hair.

"That was close," I said.

"Yeah because you opened your big, fat mouth," She said.

"He already knew. He saw me trying to look in the office. What was I supposed to do, lie?" I furthered.

"You don't seem to have a problem lyin' to Coach," Sheryl pointed out.

"I don't lie to Coach..." I began.

Sheryl turned around and gave me a pointed look.

"Much," I finished.

"You still lie to him," Sheryl explained.

"A little white lie never hurt nobody," I said as I tugged a little extra hard at Sheryl's hair.

"Ouch, that hurt," she groaned.

"You should brush your hair," I stated.

"I brushed it this morning," Sheryl said.

"Now who's the one lyin'?" I asked.

"Fine, I brushed it last night," Sheryl said wincing in pain. "Besides, I thought you said a little white lie never hurt nobody."

Looks like I lied about that too. Sheryl did have a point. I probably lied to Coach more than I should have, but what else did he expect? After all, I was still partially my Mama's daughter despite the lack of her presence in my life. The boys began to walk out of the office, so I stood up to follow them to try and get some more information out of them. Well, by them I was going to get it out of Alan. He always had a soft spot for me and I could at least stand him.

"Alan," I called as I jogged after him.

Alan stopped and looked back, but so did Gerry who held back Ray from walking any farther by placing his hand on his friend's chest. I tried to ignore Gerry's looks as I jogged up to Alan while Gerry stood only a few feet away with Ray.

"Hey Julie," Alan smiled.

"I was wonderin' if you could tell me what happened in there," I said sweetly.

"Well, Coach…" Alan began.

"He won't find out that I know and if he does, I'll just tell him Bertier told me," I stated.

I looked over to Bertier and raised my eyebrows, daring him to challenge me. He didn't say anything, but instead he walked over to where Alan and I stood in the hallway. Alan looked between us and even he could easily see the tension between Gerry and me. Alan placed his hands up in defense as he looked between Gerry and me.

"I don't wanna cause any trouble," Alan stated.

"I promise you that any trouble won't be started because of _you_," I said.

"Well, I…" Alan fumbled for words.

"You wanna know what happened?" Gerry questioned.

"Not from you," I scoffed.

"Well, I'll tell you what's going to happen. I ain't gonna be playin' for no Coach Coon," Gerry said.

By this point Gerry was towering over me. He had over a foot in height on me, but I was not going to be intimidated by him. Especially now that he was trying to make a show in front of Alan and Ray. He could be nice and sweet to me with only my father and sister present, but throw anyone else in the mix and Gerry Bertier became an ass.

"You can play the tough guy Bertier, but just remember that I know things you don't want gettin' out," I hissed.

I knew I had probably just delivered a low punch to him; but I was sick and tired of his games. He quickly backed away and bit his bottom lip. He immediately knew what I was referring to. I had seen him cry so many times that I probably couldn't even count them all. Having his football teammates knowing that he was somewhat in touch with his emotional side could be easily embarrassing.

"My mama taught me right, so I'm not gonna get into this with you and simply walk away," Gerry said.

"A move you've perfected," I retorted.

"Julie Elizabeth Yoast," Coach shouted.

I groaned and threw my head back as I could hear my father stomping toward me. I was in trouble. He probably hadn't even heard the entire conversation. Probably only the bits where I had been nasty to Bertier. Through narrowed eyes, I looked at Bertier who was turning away attempting to hide the smile on his face. I then turned my head to see my father standing in between Alan and me with his arms folded across his chest and a stern look on his face.

"Apologize," Coach said.

I looked at him and I could tell that he meant business. If I wanted any life outside of chores and going to football practices, I had to do as he said; and even then it wasn't guaranteed.

"Sorry," I muttered in Gerry's direction.

"Julie Elizabeth you know how to speak properly," Coach reprimanded.

"It's fine, Coach," Gerry said.

"Go on," Coach insisted.

"Sorry, Bertier," I apologized once more through gritted teeth.

"Julie go wait in the truck with Sheryl while the boys and I carry some boxes out," Coach commanded.

"Yes, Coach," I sighed.

I looked for my sister and we walked out of the school to Coach's truck where I would soon be receiving my punishment for sassing Gerry Bertier. I don't know what it was about that boy, but something about him got me all riled up and I really needed to stop letting Gerry Bertier get the better of me.

**Author's Note: Thanks so much to those of you who have read my story so far. Thanks to my followers: ****eastern-tennis1621****, ****cpjjgj****, ****WaitingForTheLights****, ****SincerelyAnOpportunist****, and ****IfYouCouldOnlySee****. I really appreciate you guys following after only one chapter! I'll try and respond to my reviews here, so…**

**SincerlyAnOpportunist: Ahh, such high hopes brings more pressure! Haha. Hope this second chapter didn't disappoint!**

**Cpjjgj: Thanks! I really hope you continue to follow this! As I can hopefully keep updating!**

**Fiore's Flower: Glad to have your approval so far. Hope this chapter was all right too!**

_I would like at least 4 reviews before I update again..._


	3. In Their Best Interest

I sat on the living room sofa in front of a blowing fan as I painted my toenails a bright red. Granted, no one besides me, Sheryl, and maybe Coach would be seeing my toes, it at least provided me with a little comfort from my boredom. Boredom from the never-ending summer vacation and boredom from being grounded. After my little spat with Gerry, Coach grounded me to the house unless I was on the football field. Maybe it was the heat getting to me, but I was pretty sure I actually looking forward to going to school this year, just so I had something to do. Granted, there were certain people I would have to deal with more often, but after a couple of days being stuck in this house, the thought of getting out was more so appealing that I was willing to tolerate even those select few. She had hoped that she wouldn't have to put up with them at all, what with Coach no longer as head coach and all. He had been interviewing for head coaching positions all over the state, but they wouldn't start until the following school year. Seemed like most places had their coaching staffs in place for this upcoming school year, but already they were on the hunt for next year's season. Suddenly, a knock came at the door.

"Julie, answer the door," Coach groaned from the kitchen where he was putting together a dish for tomorrow.

"I can't, I'm in the middle of something," I called back to him.

Another knock came at the door.

"Julie, just get it," Coach called.

I swiped the nail polish once more over my big toe before I hissed at Sheryl to get the door, who was sitting in the same room as me, trying to stay cool. Sheryl looked at me and rolled her eyes before she got up off the sofa and walked to the door. She opened it, but because of the angle I was sitting at, I couldn't see who she greeted so enthusiastically.

"What do you want?" Sheryl scoffed.

"Sheryl, what the hell," I hissed.

The voice who responded sounded familiar, but I couldn't place who it was. All I knew was that the man at the door asked to see my daddy.

"We're busy, interviewing for head coaching jobs," Sheryl retorted.

By this point I was to my feet, quickly trying to make my way across the carpeted floor without dripping any nail polish from my toes onto the carpeting. When I got to the door I saw that it was Coach Boone, whom Sheryl was talking to so rudely. Honestly, I didn't have much kinder words for the man who took Coach's job away. While, I may not have liked most of the kids my age in Alexandria, I knew Daddy loved his players; players that had been stolen from him and given to another man just because he had colored skin.

"Miss Yoast," Coach Boone greeted as he nodded his head toward me.

"Oh, it's just you," I greeted.

"Quite the warm greetings," Coach Boone said sarcastically.

"Coach has gotten plenty of offers and he certainly ain't got no time for you," Sheryl added.

"Girls," Coach called disappointedly from behind us.

Coach then wrapped an arm around my shoulder and placed his other hand on Sheryl's shoulder. We were both in trouble and we knew it.

"Sorry about their manners, c'mon in. I've got an office out back," Coach said.

I looked to Coach, who attempted to offer the job-stealing man in front of him a smile; but I could tell that the smile on his face wasn't genuine. Not like the smiles he had so often give those boys at practice for their hard work and dedication. No, this one was an "I'll be polite to you in front of my girls but I'm certainly not happy you took by job" type of smile. Coach Boone nodded his head at my father before he took one step inside the house. Daddy pushed Sheryl and me out of the way, so Coach Boone could come further inside. Sheryl and I stood there staring at the two men as they walked through the house and out the back door, headed for Coach's office out back. Sheryl and I looked to each other. While there certainly were times when we annoyed each other as sisters so often do, this was one of those times when we needed to stick together. Not even worrying about my bare feet, I quickly followed Sheryl to the backdoor. When we could see that Coach and Coach Boone were inside the office Sheryl looked to me and nodded. Quietly, we opened the back screen door, holding our breaths that it wouldn't squeak too loud that Coach would notice us. Sheryl tried to overtake me and lead the way toward the open door, but I grabbed her by her shirt.

"Where do you think you're going?" I asked.

"To listen to Coach, duh," Sheryl said rolling her eyes.

"Amateur," I muttered.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Sheryl questioned.

"The window's open and that's right by Coach's desk," I stated.

"Oh, well what are we standin' here for then?" Sheryl asked.

Leave it to Sheryl to still come out on top even when she was just proved wrong. I grabbed my younger sister by her hand as we tip-toed across the backyard until we were finally hunched under the window to Coach's office. We dare not even look through the window, with Coach Boone already having caught us once. Sheryl squirmed a little, causing her shoe to step on my bare feet. A slight squeak escaped my lips, but I knew I had to remain quiet as we listened to the conversation.

"Look, I can't even spell diplomacy," Coach Boone began. "And I'm sorry about the way things went down, but make no mistake; I am qualified to be this school's head coach."

"Sure ya are," Sheryl muttered.

"Sh!" I shushed her.

"Sure, you've been in how many programs the past few years?" Coach questioned.

"With four championships," Coach Boone stated.

"This isn't about me, I'm worried about my boys," Coach said.

"Well, I'm not going to cut 'em and eat 'em, if that's what you're worried about. The best player will play, color won't matter," Coach Boone began.

"Wouldn't mind if he cut and ate Bertier," I muttered.

"Ew, that's disgusting. Besides, he's the best player we've got," Sheryl argued.

"Do you think I care?" I furthered.

"What was that?" Coach Boone asked.

Sheryl and I both flung our hands over our mouths. Damn, that Coach Boone had good ears, especially when it came to finding Sheryl and I doing something we weren't supposed to be doing. I could hear Daddy walk over to the window and look out it, but thankfully he never looked down. So he turned back around and continued talking to Coach Boone.

"It's probably the wind or some of the neighbor boys. Now from the looks of our little situation we got us here, I think that color is about all that does matter," Coach said.

"Yeah, you're probably right. We're in a tough spot, coach. You, me, the whole city. I think it'd go a long way to smooth things over if you'd stay, work on the staff, be a defensive coordinator, assistant head coach," Coach Boone suggested.

"Work under you?" Coach scoffed.

"If that's the way you see it," Coach Boone said.

"Good night, Coach," Daddy stated firmly.

Coach Boone had definitely ruffled Coach's feathers. Sheryl and I were about to breathe sighs of relief when we could hear footsteps coming closer to us. Damnit. He knew. He had to. There was no reason for footsteps to be coming this way. Sheryl and I ran as fast as we could into the bushes that were only a few feet away from us. The bushes rustled a bit as Coach Boone walked back where we had been sitting underneath the window. He looked at the space under the window and over to the bushes we had jumped into. He shook his head and a slight smile spread across his face. Or at least I thought I saw a smile, but the moonlight could be very misleading. Coach Boone then turned to walk away. When we could no longer hear the sound of footsteps, we finally escaped from the bushes.

"That was close," Sheryl breathed. "Again."

"He's good. Real good," I said, also breathing heavily. "We should probably get inside before Coach figures out it was us."

Sheryl nodded her head in agreement as we both took off in sprints toward the house. With my stride a little longer than Sheryl's I overtook her once more and flung the back door open and it squeaked loudly. As I stood there for a moment frozen, I could swear the squeak was echoing through the neighborhood. I muttered an unladylike obscenity under my breath and turned around. Thankfully, it didn't appear as if Coach had noticed. I motioned for Sheryl to hurry up and get inside. Once inside, we both headed straight to bed because then if Coach had caught us, he wouldn't be able to talk with us about it until the morning and hopefully by then, he'd have forgotten why he was mad at us to begin with.

The next afternoon, Coach told us to get ready to go out for dinner. Sheryl and I both knew that the reason wasn't for dinner; it was so that Coach could make the announcement to the town that he would not be coaching anymore football in Alexandria. He had talked with us about his decision with us at breakfast this morning. I knew that the dinner thing was just to try and make us feel better about his decision after we had the meeting. Knowing that I was going to be in public (and probably judged based on my appearance and manners) I dressed in a floral print skirt with a sleeveless light green blouse, letting soft curls cascade down my head. This was as good as I was going to get, not that it should matter. The group was probably just going to be the boys on the team, their fathers, and any other man in Alexandria who cared about Hammond's team. But, I didn't want to embarrass Coach any, so I got all "dolled-up" as they would say. I tried to get Sheryl into a skirt, but she flat out refused. I knew that was going to be a losing battle, so I at least convinced her to let me braid her hair as a compromise.

When we got downtown, Coach held the door open to Hal's to let Sheryl and I walk inside. I took a few steps inside to see that the place was already full with exactly the people I expected to see. I saw Gerry Bertier look away in slight disgust as I walked in, to which I tried not to respond; instead I just focused on finding someone I could stand to sit by. I noticed Alan and his father sitting at their own table, so I ushered Sheryl to that table as Coach shook hands with the owner of Hal's. I took a seat beside Alan and greeted him enthusiastically, to which he greeted me in return. For a moment, I saw Gerry Bertier turn around to look at us, to which I responded with a rather fake smile, so he turned back around before muttering something to Ray who was sitting with him.

"You look nice today, Julie," Alan's father said.

"Thank you, sir," I responded coolly.

"Alan tells me…" he began.

But he instantly quieted, as did the rest of the room, when Coach stepped onto the small platform in the front of the room. A round of applause greeted Coach to which he smiled, but then he motioned with his hands for them to stop. The clapping slowly stopped and Coach fidgeted slightly. He was probably trying to figure out how he was going to tell them. I knew he'd been practicing his speech most of the afternoon, but I suppose practicing didn't make this situation any easier.

"It's been a rare privilege to have lived here as long as I have coaching your boys…" Coach began.

There were a few grunts and other acknowledgements to Coach's statement; but I took in a deep breath with Coach as he prepared to deliver the blowing news.

"I'll be taking the year off…" Coach began again.

Whispers of 'no' echoed through the room.

"After which I'll be moving to Loudon with the girls and taking the head coaching job and Loudon High," Coach finished.

The crowd instantly began to react and cameras began to flash. Alan's father pounded his fist against the table, causing Sheryl to jump a little because she had been resting her elbows on the table with her head in her hands. Alan simply looked around the room at everyone else's reaction, while I attempted to just keep my head held high, shoulders back, and be as ladylike about this as I could.

"I say boycott T.C. Williams!" Alan's father shouted.

"Tell 'em, Fred!" one of the other fathers shouted.

"Our boys aren't playing for some 'Coach Coon!'" Fred Bosely continued.

The sentiment was in agreement with the others in the room. Suddenly, Bertier stood up to address my father.

"Coach he stole your job!" Bertier shouted.

While Bertier and I almost never were in agreement, I suppose this was one of those issues where we had a united stance. Coach Boone did steal Daddy's job; but then again that was a fact, not something up for debate.

"I'm not playing for him. I started a petition, and I'm sitting this season out," Bertier stated.

I gasped and threw my hands over my mouth. Even if I didn't like him, Bertier really was the best player we had. Hell, best player in Virginia, maybe even the whole country. For him to throw his career away like that…but what were Bertier's motivations? Was it his loyalty to Coach or was it the whole issue of blacks and whites? I straightened my shoulders, trying not to get too caught up in all of Bertier's drama; but it wasn't as easy as I thought it would be when Daddy stepped off the stage and walked right toward Bertier.

"Only place you're going to sit is back in that chair, Gerry," Coach stated. "I appreciate it, though."

I knew Coach thought of Bertier as the son he never had. I suppose he felt the same about all the boys on the football field, but he always had a soft-spot for Bertier since he didn't have his father. Coach tried to fill that role sometimes. When we were younger, I remember Gerry would come over just to play catch with Coach. Most of the time I would join in, but it seemed once we hit high school, Gerry stopped coming by less and less and Coach "fathered" him mostly on the football field. Coach patted Gerry on the shoulder when Fred Bosely, whom I sat with at a table, shot to his feet.

"Boycott T.C.!" Fred shouted. "Boycott the school!"

Agreement echoed through the room; but Coach looked over to Mr. Bosely and shook his head. Coach muttered for Gerry to sit down before he walked and stood in front of Mr. Bosely.

"Stop this, Fred," Coach hissed. "You know none of these boys can afford to go to some other district just to play ball. They sit this one out; they put their futures on the line."

Before Mr. Bosely could even respond, Ray Budds jumped to his feet defensively.

"Coach, I'm out too," Ray stated.

Coach's head instantly turned to face Ray whose face was solemn. I looked beside me to see Alan fidgeting with his hands tapping his knees.

"I'm not playing for no thief," Ray furthered.

"Don't you do this," Coach argued. "Don't make this any harder for me than it already is."

Next thing I knew, Alan was to his feet as well.

"Coach, if you go, I go," Alan stated.

The whole room was soon on their feet and up in arms, shouting.

"I only play for you, Coach Yoast!"

"Don't go, Coach!"

"You can't leave us!"

Soon the crowd began to chant "Coach Yoast" as rounds of applause echoed the room once more. I looked to Coach, who looked unsure of how to react. While I could tell he was flattered by the boys' loyalty, he also cared for them and knew what peril they were putting their futures in. The crowd continued to chant and clap. So Coach, knowing that this wasn't going to end anytime soon, or maybe he knew my stomach was growling, motioned for Sheryl and me to come with him. We followed him out the door, as he waved once more to the crowd inside. Coach wrapped one arm around Sheryl and one around me as he led us to the closest diner. We stayed silent as we sat in our booth until the waitress came to get our order. We all ordered burgers and milkshakes. Coach drummed his fingers against the table, looking deep in thought.

"That certainly went well," I said sarcastically.

"Not quite the way it went in my head," Coach muttered.

"At least you know they're loyal to you," I responded.

"Loyal enough to put their futures on the line because of me," Coach said shaking his head.

"It's not like all of 'em could play college ball anyway," I shrugged.

"That's not the point," Coach said sternly.

The bell on the door jingled, which caused me to look up and see who was walking through the door. I wish I hadn't. Walking through the door was Bertier and his girlfriend Emma Hoyt. He had an arm wrapped around her waist as he led her through the diner. She looked rather smug as she walked beside him. They were rather the perfect match made in Alexandria heaven: stuck-up and full of themselves. Bertier led Emma by the table Coach, Sheryl, and I sat at.

"Coach," Bertier greeted.

"Gerry, glad to see you've cooled down some," Coach said.

"I still haven't changed my mind," Bertier said solemnly.

"Gerry, I'm going to find a table," Emma said.

"Oh, all right. I—I'll be right behind you," Bertier said.

She smiled her fake smile at me, but I could easily read the hate behind her glance. It seemed like just to spite me; she placed a kiss on Bertier's cheek and walked away with her ponytail swinging as she walked. I rolled my eyes. Because obviously public displays of affection with Bertier made me jealous…not!

"Gerry, you need to re-think what you're doing," Coach said.

"I have thought about it Coach. A lot. Thing is I'm not playing for him. I'm your player, plain and simple," Bertier responded. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I don't want to keep my lady waiting."

Coach simply nodded his head as Bertier walked away.

"Why don't you go on any dates?" Sheryl asked bluntly.

"'Cause everyone's too scared to ask," I responded. "Besides, who says that I want to date?"

"You do, I'm not stupid," Sheryl said rolling her eyes.

"Do you want to date?" Coach asked.

"What?" I coughed as I choked on the bit of milkshake I had just sipped.

"Well, it's just that we've never talked about it," Coach said.

"And it's not something I'm going to talk about here," I stated.

"Fair enough," Coach smiled.

The sun was still beating heavily as we left the diner. When we got home, Sheryl ran inside and Coach walked around back to the field. I followed after Coach until he sat and leaned against a tree. I carefully adjusted my skirt as I sat beside him. Coach sighed heavily and rested his head against the tree.

"You know that everything I do, I do in yours and Sheryl's best interest, right?" Coach asked.

"Of course," I answered.

"You both are so important to me. All I have left since…" Coach began.

"Since Mama left, I know," I finished.

"Sometimes it seems like I can't do anything right and now I've gone and made a mess of things," Coach said.

"It's not your fault," I replied.

"I've coached most of these boys since they were Sheryl's age. I've seen them grow up in front of my eyes almost like they were my own kids," Coach sighed.

"Almost," Sheryl stated as she appeared from behind the tree.

"They're as good as," I added.

"This is a heck of a time to be abandoning them to look out for themselves, ain't it?" Coach asked.

"So, what are you gonna do?" I asked.

"Well, I have this idea…" Coach began.

"I know you don't need it, but whatever it is, you have my blessing," I said.

"Thanks, that means a lot, Julie," Coach said.

Coach wrapped an arm around my shoulder and placed a kiss on top of my head. He didn't have to say what his plan was, I knew my Daddy pretty well to know what he was thinking. And like I told him, I knew that whatever he did, he always had Sheryl and me in mind; but I also knew that despite the genetics, Sheryl and I weren't his only kids. And Daddy always looked out for the best interest of his kids; which meant we were in for some changes.

**Author's note: Thanks so much to those of you who have shown an interest in this story. I saw that there wasn't a whole lot of Remember the Titans fanfiction, so I figured I'd give a shot at it. I'd specifically like to thank those who have followed or favorited, especially: nanatic21 and TalonNight. Thanks to the 4 of you who reviewed the last chapter! It means a lot, that my little story is getting read.**

**Cpjjgj: I like writing Julie/Sheryl and their sister dynamic. While we see that they can fight, at the end of the day they still are sisters. Yeah, Bertier…there's something going on there…haha**

**HelloMrSunshine: You're welcome that I created a story. I figured the world of fanfiction could use another one! So thanks for the review! Hope you continue to like it.**

**Caligirl538: Thanks for the review! I'm glad that you like it so far1**

**TalonNight: I figured that they shouldn't like each other the whole time…then there'd be no room for character development. Besides, it's another storyline to add about "coming to terms" like the title. Thanks for your review and I hope you continue to enjoy.**

Can we get 5 reviews this time?


	4. Missing

I was fast asleep in my room until Coach came knocking on my door. He claims that he knocked gently at first; but by the time I woke up, he was practically pounding down my door. He was calling for me to get up, by my full name: Julie Elizabeth Yoast. He only used that when he meant business or I was in trouble. Normally, it was the latter; so I assumed it was the latter. Not wanting to get in trouble first thing in the morning, I pretended to stay asleep when I heard the door creak open to my room. Coach then started to shake me awake. This time, knowing that there was no way to easily be rid of him, I rolled over slowly, pretending that I had just woken-up from a deep sleep.

"Coach?" I fake yawned.

"Julie, you need to get up," Coach said.

"But it's summer," I groaned.

"I have business I need to attend to," Coach said.

"Wait a minute, isn't today that meeting for the football team?" I asked.

"You need to make Sheryl some breakfast," Coach stated after ignoring my question.

"She knows how to make cereal," I argued.

"And you know how to make pancakes," Coach responded.

"But Coach…" I began.

"Get a move-on," Coach interrupted. "I won't tell you again."

"Yes, Coach," I muttered.

Dressed in my Hammond football shirt, which was more of a dress in comparison, and a pair of Coach's old sweatpants; I headed downstairs on Coach's orders. He probably went to wake Sheryl up, who would be allowed to fall back asleep. That was the trouble with being the older sister; always stuck babysitting. Sheryl was nine, more than capable of fending for herself for a few hours; but I knew that since Mama left, Coach trusted me to look after her. For all purposes, I was Sheryl's mother; but I couldn't say that I was much of one.

When I was finally downstairs, I headed straight for the kitchen and opened the icebox to pour myself a glass of orange juice. I took a sip of it when the doorbell rang. Coach yelled for me to get the door and I muttered some unladylike obscenity before I walked to the door. I took another swig of my orange juice and then opened the front door to reveal Gerry Bertier standing there in a white button-up short sleeve shirt, with the top button undone and a pair of blue jeans. The very sight of him caused me to spit up my orange juice and it dribbled onto my shirt. For a moment, he looked like he was going to hold back any insults or laughter, but I knew Bertier better than that to avoid me even the slightest humiliation.

"I think you missed your mouth," Bertier chuckled.

"You're right about one thing, I missed; but I was aiming for you," I retorted. "And what the hell are you doing here?"

"Coach told us to meet him over here," Bertier responded.

"Of course he did," I muttered.

"Is that really what you wear to bed?" Bertier questioned.

"Excuse me?" I hissed.

Part of me was appalled by how bold he was being. Who was he to question how I was dressed.

"You heard me," Bertier stated.

"Well, it's none of your beeswax what I wear," I hissed again.

"No, but some of your prospects might care," Bertier said.

"What do you mean by prospects?" I questioned.

Bertier stepped aside to reveal what was left of the Hammond football team that would be trying out for the T.C. Williams team. I could see a few players, like Ray and John, look at me and chuckled at my expense. My temper began to flare as Bertier chuckled right along with them. He then took my glass of orange juice right out of my hand and downed the rest of it. I stood there and stared at him with a shocked look on my face. He wiped his mouth and then handed the glass back to me.

"Next time, don't miss," Bertier said.

He laughed at his own joke before he turned around and walked right for the rest of the team. Now he'd gone and done it. He'd pissed me off and looking back on it, I let him. But I wouldn't let him get away with this. While I admit I probably shouldn't have, I let my temper get the better of me. One of my greater faults and sins: my temper. I turned back into the house about to slam the door on Bertier, when I got a better idea. I looked around to make sure Coach was nowhere in sight when I grabbed the football that Sheryl had carelessly strewn on the floor. I wrapped my fingers tightly around the ball before I turned around back for the front porch. Some of the boys looked at me and wolf-whistled before they turned their attention back to whatever important conversation they were having. Luckily for me, Bertier stood with his back to me. I smirked as my fingers found their proper positions between the laces. Thoughts that I was going to give the others a glimpse into a hidden part of me quickly fleeted as I pulled the ball back and released it. While it didn't perfectly spiral as it should, the ball did hit my intended target right in the back of his head. He instantly jolted in surprise and turned around to look at me.

"Didn't miss that time," I smirked.

Gerry rubbed the back of his head, biting back a retort. I could hear the others questioning him about how I managed to hit him, to which Bertier responded that it was a lucky shot. He shot me a look, which told me that he and I both knew he was lying. No matter how much of an ass he was, I suppose there were still some things that Bertier knew better than to mess with and one of those things was our secrets we pledged long ago to keep. But I couldn't help but wonder if the cover-up was because a girl had bested him in front of his closest friends. I sneered at him as Coach yelled for me to get inside. My face instantly dropped as I ran back inside the house while I could hear Bertier laughing in the background. Clearly, this wasn't over.

Coach quickly pressed a gentle kiss against my forehead before he headed out the door to meet his boys. He was dressed in a nice dress shirt and slacks, a little nicer than his usual field attire. I walked over to the window and moved the curtains to get a better look. I watched Coach walk and his boys greet him as he walked to his truck. Bertier and Ray hopped in the front seat beside him, while some of the other boys hopped in the bed of the truck. It looked like they really were doing this together. I heard the sound of a throat being cleared and turned to find Sheryl standing there with her arms folded across her chest.

"Where are my pancakes?" Sheryl asked.

"Does it look like I've had time to make them?" I questioned.

"No, because you were too busy making eyes at Gerry," Sheryl retorted.

"I was doing no such thing," I hissed.

"Yeah you were," Sheryl responded.

"I hate him," I argued.

"Julie and Gerry sittin' in a tree K-I-S-S-I-N-G…" Sheryl began.

"You'd better stop or I ain't making your pancakes," I hissed.

"Fine," Sheryl muttered.

I gave her a look of superiority before I walked into the kitchen to make her pancakes. I made Sheryl chocolate chip pancakes, just like Mama did for me when I was little. There weren't many good things I could say about my Mama, but she did make the best pancakes this side of the Mason-Dixon Line. I knew her secret though; she added a hint of almond extract to the batter giving the pancakes that hint of something special. Mama used to call it love, but eventually I figured out it was the almond extract. Sheryl and I sat down and devoured our pancakes. Breakfast was a rather silent affair. Both of us were wondering how the football meeting was going for Coach. When we finished eating, Sheryl washed the dishes without cleaning; but I think she knew that the dishes would help take her mind off things until Coach got back. By the time Coach did get home, the dishes had been dry and put away for quite some time. Coach tried to sneak in the house quietly, but Sheryl instantly bounded right for him.

"How'd it go?" Sheryl asked excitedly.

"Well, you're looking at T.C. Williams _assistant_ football coach," Coach shrugged.

"And is that a good thing or bad thing?" I asked.

"We'll just have to wait and see," Coach responded. "But Boone's letting Coach Tyrell come on for the special teams."

"How does Tyrell feel about that?" I questioned.

"That's what took so long, but I got him to agree to coach under Boone," Coach said.

"I still think that should be your job," Sheryl said stubbornly.

"Well, I'm thankful that I was given the opportunity to work with my boys for another year," Coach stated.

I could tell that he was just saying it as a front for Sheryl. He didn't want to drag a nine year old into the politics that was integration. I was going to walk away when Coach called.

"Julie, don't make any plans for Thursday evening," Coach said.

"I can't, I'm grounded, remember?" I responded.

"Oh, that's right," Coach said after thinking about it for a moment. "Well, we're going over to Bertier's for dinner that night."

"What?" I gasped.

"Mrs. Bertier caught me as I was dropping Gerry off and she invited us to dinner," Coach explained.

"I'm not going," I said folding my arms across my chest.

"Yes, you are," Coach stated sternly.

"I'm busy," I argued.

"You're grounded, remember?" Coach said using my own words against me.

I know it was childish, but I rolled my eyes and stomped back upstairs. I wanted Coach to know that I wasn't happy about this situation, but he didn't really seem to care how I felt about it. Thursday evening finally rolled around, which both Sheryl and I dreaded. While Sheryl liked Gerry, she wasn't thrilled about dressing up for the occasion and neither was I. Sheryl dressed in a plaid jumper with white blouse underneath. Almost as soon as she had it on, she began to tug at the starched collar. Not that I could blame her, I still swatted at her hand to keep her from playing with it. She and I both had to be on our best behaviors in front of Mrs. Bertier. She wasn't very lenient on many things, especially not manners and propriety. I dressed in a blue dress with white polka dots and a thick white belt. Sheryl and I each slid our feet into our respective pairs of white Mary-Janes before I finished pulling my hair back into a bun. I looked in the mirror and sighed. Too bad Coach didn't buy that I was sick; but I swear every time I was anywhere near Gerry Bertier I felt sick to my stomach.

Sheryl and I grabbed light jackets before we slipped into Coach's pick-up truck and then we were off to Bertier's for dinner. Just as Coach looked out for Gerry, I think Mrs. Bertier saw it as her good deed or what not to do the same for Sheryl and me. When Coach put the truck into park outside the house, I could see Mrs. Bertier watching from the window; but as soon as we hopped out of the truck all I saw was swishing curtains. Coach led us up the path to the front porch before he rang the doorbell. Almost immediately, the door opened and Mrs. Bertier greeted us with a smile. She ushered us inside. Normally, when we had dinners over here, Gerry was waiting in the front entrance to take our coats like a good host, but he was nowhere to be seen. Maybe he was sick or something, but my hopes were dashed when she called for Gerry to come greet the guests. Gerry walked into the hall from the room I knew to be their front room with his hands shoved in the pockets in his slacks. I bit back a chuckle at how uncomfortable he looked. He was dressed in a suit coat and slacks. His button-up dress shirt was buttoned all the way up and a tie was knotted around his neck.

He refused to make eye contact with me, which I was fine with. He took mine and Sheryl's coats and walked them into one of the back rooms as Mrs. Bertier led us into the front room where she had some hor dourves out on the table. Sheryl and I both sat on the love seat. I pinched my sister to straighten up and sit a little more ladylike as Mrs. Bertier offered to get us something to drink. Gerry walked back into the room and sat down on one of the armchairs. Sheryl attempted to make small-talk between the three of us until we were told dinner was ready. With a grin on his face, Gerry offered his arm and escorted Sheryl into the room, which was more than fine with me. Besides, I got slight satisfaction when his mother had to reprimand him to pull my chair out as well. He didn't say anything, but immediately did as he was told. I offered him one of my fake sweet smiles to which he responded with a nod. Sheryl sat to my right and Coach to my left. Gerry was right across from me and his mother beside him. Normally, I would've been tempted to kick him in the shins during dinner; but I knew that tonight I had to behave myself.

The one good thing about eating at the Bertiers was that Mrs. Bertier knew how to cook. Tonight we had a roast with carrots and potatoes. Despite how hot the weather was, Mrs. Bertier had still braved the heat of the kitchen for such a splendid dinner. Mrs. Bertier asked Coach to give thanks. Before doing so, he awkwardly cleared his throat before he prayed to the Lord Almighty, thanking him for the food and to bless those about to partake in its goodness. After he was done we all joined in an "amen" before we started to eat. Sheryl picked up her fork first and was about to dig in when I reached for her wrist.

"Head of the table first," I hissed lowly.

Normally, Sheryl would have rolled her eyes at me; but we both looked to Coach. He had a twinkle in his eye and a smile on his face as he began to eat his roast. I then released Sheryl's wrist and we all began to eat.

"Coach Yoast, Gerry and I just wanted to thank you for everything you've done for Gerry here," Mrs. Bertier said.

"Yeah, thank you, Coach," Gerry added.

"It's been an honor to coach a fine boy like Gerry," Coach beamed.

"I—I just hope that this new coach, Coach…" Mrs. Bertier began.

"Boone," Gerry finished.

"I just hope that this Coach Boone doesn't ruin Gerry's shot at collegiate ball," Mrs. Bertier said solemnly.

"I'll be coachin' the defense, so Gerry will be playin' for me," Coach stated. "All Boone's gonna want from him is to get through training camp."

"What's this I hear about him havin' it at Gettysburg College?" Mrs. Bertier asked.

"That's right ma'am, we're havin' camp in Gettysburg. I think Coach Boone would like to give the team a chance to play together before facing the inevitable scrutiny," Coach stated.

"Do you think it'll work?" Mrs. Bertier asked.

"Can't really say; I just do what I'm told now," Coach said.

"Between you and me, I don't think this plan of integratin' 'em now is gonna work. It's a shame that it had to be done Gerry's senior year. I don't understand why they couldn't wait another year," Mrs. Bertier stated.

"Well, there's not much we can do about it now," Coach stated, obviously trying his best to remain neutral on the situation.

"Yes, I suppose you're right," Mrs. Bertier said.

The talk of integrating and its effects seemed to die down after that. While we continued to eat, Sheryl decided to keep the conversation going by re-living some of Gerry's glory moments the previous year. Gerry clearly didn't mind being the center of attention and both Coach and his mama were proud of his accomplishments. The only one not too keen on the conversation was me. I was thankful when Mrs. Bertier finally brought out the dessert of warm apple pie with a dollop of ice cream, because the topic of conversation finally turned from Gerry; but not to what I was expecting.

"So what will happen with the girls while you're at training camp?" Mrs. Bertier asked.

"I know the girls' mama has been itchin' to seem 'em," Coach answered in between bites of pie. "I mean, we still have to finalize any plans…"

I guess I didn't know how angry talk of Mama made me because I accidentally dropped my fork onto my plate with a loud clank and my hands were balled into fists. I didn't want to see that woman. She left us. She didn't have any right to us. She lost any right when she left. But Coach was the type of person, who if he saw even the slightest shred of goodness in someone that was all he saw, despite their many faults. I could feel myself tensing up more and more as Mrs. Bertier asked some questions about my mama. Things got to a point where I couldn't take it anymore and I excused myself to the restroom.

Not wanting anyone to see me break-down, I tried to hold back the tears of anger that threatened to fall. I know it was wrong, but I never forgave Mama for leaving us. I knew that I should've forgiven her long ago, not for her sake, but my own. That anger and hurt didn't do a person good, I knew that; but I just couldn't find the strength to forgive her. I wanted her to hurt just as much as she hurt me. I remembered coming home from school one day to find that her things were no longer there. I wasn't even given proper warning that she was leaving. She just up and left without even looking back. By this point the tears that had threatened to spill had. Several tears slipped down my cheeks in anger and I roughly wiped them away. After a few minutes, I examined my face in the mirror and noted that it was red and blotchy; but there was nothing I could do about that now. I had to get back to dinner. It was rude to keep them waiting on me, especially over something like this. I took a deep breath and opened the bathroom door only to find Bertier standing outside in the hall, leaning against the wall loosening his tie.

"You all right?" Bertier asked.

"Like you care," I scoffed.

I turned to walk away, but he grabbed me by my arm.

"Let go," I hissed.

"I do care," Bertier said lowly.

"You have a funny way of showin' it," I said rolling my eyes.

"I'm here, ain't I?" Bertier furthered.

"Yeah, you're here now; but what about all the other times you walked away or ignored me?" I said angrily.

"I'm sorry, this ain't easy for me, you know," Bertier said.

"I've asked nothing of you and you've delivered in fine fashion. So let's just go back to the way things were a few minutes ago," I responded.

"Julie," Bertier sighed.

"We don't want to keep them waitin' any longer," I said.

And just like that he gave up trying to fight me. He released my arm and we silently walked back to the dining room where Sheryl was talking animatedly with the adults. Gerry and I quietly took our seats. I was thankful that nothing was asked about what had happened. Instead we finished eating our pie and soon we were out the door. Sheryl, Coach, and I were halfway to the truck when Bertier ran after us, asking to speak to me for a moment privately. I could see a glint in Sheryl's eye; but really she should believe me when I said there was nothing between Gerry and I, that I meant there was nothing and never would be anything between Gerry Bertier and I. Rather reluctantly, I turned around as Bertier walked closer and Coach and Sheryl hopped into the truck.

"Julie, I was wonderin'…" Bertier began.

"Just spit it out, Bertier," I hissed.

He looked around and leaned down closer to my ear.

"Can you not tell anyone…" Bertier began in a low voice.

"That I was here and that you were nice to me?" I questioned.

I looked up at him and I could see him originally wince at my harsh words; but he eventually nodded his head in agreement. I scoffed under my breath and shook my head before I looked up at him, trying to fake a sweet smile for his mother who was watching from the window and my father who was watching from the truck.

"Now whoever would I tell?" I said.

He looked at me for a moment before he muttered his thanks. Holding my head high, I turned around on my heel and walked toward the truck. The ride home was rather quiet, except Sheryl wouldn't shut up about that stupid football training camp at Gettysburg College. From the enthusiasm in her voice, one could tell that she really wanted to go with; but Coach said that she couldn't go unless I did. And clearly she knew that I wouldn't be going anywhere. So our options were either to go with Mama for the week, which I would flat-out refuse to do, or I would watch Sheryl for the week at home. I looked at her after Coach gave her those two options and I could practically see the gears turning in her head.

When we got home I didn't talk to anyone. Instead, I went right upstairs to my room to get out of that dress. I changed into an actual pair of pajamas that I owned, after remembering the embarrassment I received from Bertier, and snuggled in my bed with a new book. This time, I was reading _Little Dorrit _by Charles Dickens. I suppose I could relate to Amy, being stuck in a place because of her love for her father; only Coach wasn't here because he was forced to be, he chose to be. Thus adding to my misery. If only we'd come into some long-lost fortune to get out of here; but I don't think any sum of money could replace Coach's love for his football players. Suddenly, Sheryl came flying into my room and flung herself onto my bed. She sat right on top of me, staring me straight in the face, practically cutting off my air supply.

"What do you want?" I asked.

"You need to tell Coach that you want to go to training camp," Sheryl stated.

"And why would I do that?" I scoffed.

"Because you owe me, remember? And I know what I want for my favor now," Sheryl said.

I groaned. Of course I had to make a promise like that with a nine-year-old who would remember. And of course she would demand to go to that stupid training camp. With Sheryl, there was no way of getting out of these things. Besides, what kind of role-model would I be for her if I went back on that promise? So, it looked like despite everything, I was bound for a week long T.C. Williams' football training camp on August 15th. I just hoped that in the inevitable chaos, I'd be able to find some solace.

**Author's Note: So, a little more of Julie and her relationships before we start training camp. I'm so thankful for the response that I've gotten to this story. Really, it's my baby right now…don't worry, Gerry/Julie should get there eventually, but I wanted to do this the right way and not jump into anything right away like so many other stories do. I wanted to give them both some character growth. :) I'd like to thank those who have followed/favorited as of last chapter's update: ItsSimplyNatalie and allstarcheergirl. I truly appreciate it.**

**NCISPotterluvr: Aww…I'm so glad that you like her. Like I said above, I'm trying really hard to write her realistically, yet still have room for character development. **

**BrownEyedDreamr: I'm glad that you're liking it so far. What do you think will happen with her and a certain person from California? Lol**

**Cpjjgj: I'm glad that you like it. Here's another chapter for you to see!**

**Daydreamer1122: I'm truly humbled that you like my little story. Here's another update (a day after you asked…haha)**

**Guest (1): Thanks for the review. I think this chapter had some more Julie/Gerry in it. I just wanted to make sure that I had my character established before I went and threw her to a pack of wolves so to speak…haha. They'll get there eventually, I just wanna do this write and make sure there's development and not thrown into something right away.**

**Guest (2): I'm glad that you love it. I'm sorry for your short attention span, so here's another chapter. I was literally editing it as I got your review. :D I'm glad that you ship Julie/Gerry…but it's gonna take them a little time to get there. She's kinda stubborn in case you can't tell…haha**

So, can we try and get more than 5 reviews for this next chapter?


	5. Good Morning?

I attempted to slam my suitcase shut, but it just popped back open before I could even attempt to latch it. I groaned and tried again. The thing still wouldn't close. Packing for a week away from the comforts of my home and heading to Gettysburg College proved to be more difficult than I thought it was going to be. I had to pack enough clothes and books to entertain me for the week and if Coach had his way, it'd be longer. He was still trying to convince me to go with my mama; but truth was, I wanted nothing to do with her. She had hurt me too bad, but I knew he wanted me to have a decent relationship with my mother. Something I wasn't exactly keen on. No, I'd do this football camp thing because I made a promise to my sister; but there was no way in hell that I was going to see the woman who had birthed me and then abandoned me. I attempted to shut my suitcase one more time before shouted for my sister. I could hear her footsteps across the wood floors before Sheryl finally poked her head in my room and I motioned for her to come in.

"What do you want?" Sheryl questioned.

"Just get in here," I commanded.

"Why?" Sheryl furthered.

"I need you to sit on my suitcase," I said rolling my eyes.

"Fine," Sheryl retorted.

Sheryl walked in and jumped onto my bed before hopping onto the suitcase. She sat on it with her arms folded across her chest with a sour look on her face. I motioned for her to scoot over to the right, so I could latch that side. She gave me a pointed look so I pushed her to the right before I latched the side of the suitcase she was on.

"You pack too much," Sheryl stated. "What do you have in here anyway?"

"Clothes," I responded.

I motioned for her to move over to the left side of the suitcase. This time, she moved on her own. She crawled to the other side of the suitcase before I latched it. I then took a step back as she attempted to lift my suitcase. She struggled to lift the thing, which caused me to giggle. When she saw me giggling at her, the sour look on her face came back and she released the suitcase on my bed.

"What do you have in here, bricks?" Sheryl asked.

"Close, books," I grinned.

"How many do you need?" Sheryl questioned.

"Enough to keep me from arguing with Bertier," I said.

"You like arguing with him,' Sheryl stated.

"I do not," I argued.

"That's not the way I see it," Sheryl retorted.

"You're nine and clearly blind," I said.

"Well you're seventeen and can't see…" Sheryl began.

"Sorry, but the perspective of a nine year old doesn't mean a whole lot to me," I interrupted.

Sheryl narrowed her eyes and stuck her tongue out at me before she jumped off my bed and stomped out of my room. I sighed, she was definitely going to be difficult when her teenage years came around. I just hoped Coach would be able to handle her. He was having a hard enough time dealing with me; no doubt Sheryl would be worse. Coach yelled for us downstairs. It was time to go to the school to get on the bus that would take us to Gettysburg College. I smoothed out my knee-length floral print dress, adjusted the belt at my waist, and smoothed my French braid down. I guess this was as ready as I was going to get to spend a week with a football team that was bound to butt heads.

I grabbed my suitcase from my bed and started to drag it on the floor down the hall. So Sheryl was right that the thing was heavy, but I had better things to do than talk to a bunch of football players. Either they were going to be arrogant or I didn't know them. The only person whom I knew that I would have any inclination to talk to would be Alan. But he was going to be busy with two maybe three a day practices to have much time for little old me. When I was finally downstairs with my suitcase, Coach walked by and picked it up before heading for the front door. He was wearing a white dress shirt, a brown suit coat and slacks, and a dark blue tie. My little sister, who was dressed in a white blouse and a red skirt, was practically right at Coach's side.

"My God, Julie, what do you have in here?" Coach asked.

"She's got books to read to keep her from arguin' with Gerry," Sheryl answered for me.

Sheryl turned around and smirked at me.

"Glad to see your thinkin' ahead," was all Coach answered.

I narrowed my eyes and walked a little faster to catch up to Coach and Sheryl. I flicked my sister in the back of the head, which caused to her groan in pain; but I simply kept my head held high with a smile on my face. I opened the door to Coach's truck for Sheryl to climb in first. She hopped in, but sat where I was going to sit and she didn't budge. I groaned before I jumped into the truck and attempted to sit on her to get her to move. She yelled for me to get off and pushed at my back; but I simply tried to push her into the middle seat.

"Juju get off," Sheryl hissed.

"Just scoot your bottom on over," I retorted.

"You're both gonna have to sit in the middle when we pick up Coach Tyrell," Coach said.

Sheryl and I both groaned before we settled in our rightful seats. When we picked Coach Tyrell up, he flung his suitcase in the bed of Coach's truck before he joined us in the cab. I scooted over to the middle and Sheryl sat on my lap so we had enough room for Coach Tyrell. Then we were on our way to the T.C. Williams' parking lot where we'd meet the busses, players, and of course, Coach Boone. Coach Tyrell offered me his hand to help me out of the truck which I accepted. Once I was out of the truck, I smoothed down my dress and looked for someone, anyone to talk to.

I spotted Alan and walked over to where he stood while Coach lugged my suitcase over to the bus to get packed. I felt a little guilty, but I knew that chivalry wasn't dead so Coach was going to bring it over there whether I asked him to or not. Mrs. Bosely greeted me with a hug and Alan smiled.

"My my, Miss Julie, you're lookin' more beautiful every time I see you," Mrs. Bosely commented.

"Thank you," I responded.

"It's a good thing to see that you're finally coming in to your own," Mrs. Bosely continued.

"Ma," Alan groaned.

I simply smiled and nodded. I knew she was making some little dig at my upbringing. How I didn't start daily wearing dresses and skirts until a little over a year ago. How I hardly had any girlfriends. How I normally was more apt to play outside with the boys than play dolls when I was a child. How maybe my mama leavin' was for the best because it forced the responsibilities of a woman to fall on me. I knew these little things were wrapped up in her conversation, but I simply chose not to give her the satisfaction. Don't get me wrong, I liked Mrs. Bosely on a good day; but sometimes people were more concerned over the way things had been as tradition over seeing things change: like the role of a woman or the color of a person.

I politely excused myself; claiming that I had other people to say good morning to. Thankfully, Mrs. Bertier showed up to have someone for Mrs. Bosely to gossip with. Truth was I just didn't want the chance of losing my temper in front of Mrs. Bosely or Mrs. Bertier. I already had enough of a reputation that I didn't need a worse one. Honestly, it's not like I was some wild, out-of-control, type of person. I was trying my best at this whole lady thing, but sometimes I reverted back to my old ways. Sort of like an alcoholic. They try their best for a while but then almost without fail, they end up back with the bottle. I knew that cycle all-too-well; but I didn't think I was _that_ bad. Sure, I had my relapses and my temper flares; but I had come a long ways, anyone who knew me could plainly see that.

I saw Coach Boone headed right toward Coach, Sheryl, and Coach Tyrell. I stopped to watch him walk over to them when he veered his path and headed straight toward me. He whistled some song I wasn't familiar with as he walked toward me. Remembering that I needed to watch my behavior I smiled as he stopped right in front of me.

"Good morning Miss Yoast," Coach Boone said.

"You do know my name is Julie, right?" I questioned.

"Good morning, Miss Julie," Coach Boone chuckled.

He held his hand out for me to shake, but I shook my head no. Most people wouldn't have shaken his hand either; but I had completely different reasons. It had nothing to do with the color of his skin; it was because he stole my daddy's job. If could've been some white guy that stole my daddy's job and I wouldn't have shaken his hand either. Just principal, not skin color.

"I'm just going to come out with it; I don't want you distracting my players," Coach Boone said.

"How would I do that?" I asked.

"I don't know. Just none of your girly charms or nothin'," Coach Boone stated.

"You obviously haven't heard much about me then, have you?" I said shaking my head.

"It doesn't matter what I have and haven't heard. What I do know is that boys will do anything for a girl's attention and I don't want you fancying that notion none," Coach Boone furthered.

"So what exactly do you want from me then?" I questioned.

"No distractions," Coach Boone said.

I bit my bottom lip as I saw Gerry Bertier turn and look at me talking to Coach Boone. He had a look of pure disgust on his face. While I wouldn't try to be a "romantic" distraction; I couldn't guarantee that I wouldn't kill Bertier after being forced to spend a week in close proximity to him. I would try my best, but I couldn't make any guarantees.

"I'll try my best," I stated.

Coach Boone seemed to accept my answer and walked right for Coach. Of course it would be my luck that the second Boone left me, Bertier and Ray walked right over to take his place. I tried to walk away; but the parking lot was too crowded to get very far. Not to mention that the boys' longer strides could easily out-walk my shorter stride. Bertier grabbed me by my arm and turned me around. I did have to admit that he didn't look anywhere as near as uncomfortable in his dress clothes than he had when he had dinner at his house. I suppose one might even call him attractive; but I couldn't see past the scowl on his face.

"Julie," Bertier said sternly.

"Good morning to you too, Bertier," I retorted.

"Why was _he_ talkin' to you?" Bertier questioned.

"That ain't none of your concern," I responded.

"It ain't proper," Ray stated.

"For God's sake, it wasn't like he was askin' me to go steady. He's married," I scoffed.

"Then what was it?" Bertier asked.

"He's just lookin' out for the benefit of his players," I said.

"Quit playin' games and tell us already," Bertier hissed.

"Emma didn't come to see you off today?" I asked attempting to change the subject and make him even madder.

"It don't concern you," Bertier scoffed.

"Exactly what I'm tryin' to tell you about Coach Boone," I said folding my arms across my chest.

I then turned on my heel and walked toward Coach and Sheryl. I could hear Bertier and Ray walking behind me, but I was thankful that when I stopped walking their footsteps continued. He and Ray were headed right for Coach Boone. I inwardly cringed and hoped they weren't going to confront him about talking to me. Coach and I watched them as it appeared they were having a quite serious conversation; but then Coach Boone addressed everyone in the parking lot.

"Oh Lord, what have they done now?" Coach muttered.

I kept my mouth silent. I mean, maybe it wasn't anything about me.

"Ladies and gentlemen, I got an announcement to make. We got Jerry Lewis and Dean Martin going to camp with us here this year. Jerry tells the jokes. Dean sings the songs and gets the girl. Let's give them a round of applause."

Coach Boone started clapping and he was the only one clapping. I nervously played with my braid. I suppose a little public embarrassment couldn't hurt the two of them; but I still felt a little bad, somewhere in the pit of my stomach knowing that I could be responsible for this. I watched intently as Coach Boone took a few steps closer to Bertier. I attempted to tune out the conversation around me so that I could hear what Boone was telling Bertier; but I couldn't hear what they were saying. I only saw Bertier point over to his mother and Coach Boone looked over at her. I took a couple small steps closer toward them to get a better listen.

"…you answer me when I ask you who is your daddy. Who's your daddy, Gerry?" Coach Boone said.

My stomach flipped as Gerry remained silent. I caught a glimpse of the profile of his face and I could tell he was struggling with his thoughts. Just like my mama, Gerry's father had bailed on him too. I remembered nights sitting out on the back porch talking about our parents who fled. I remembered when sometimes that burden got to great to bear and one of us would break down into tears. Granted, it had been years since I'd seen Gerry cry over his father; but I could certainly tell that this wasn't easy for him. As much as I loathed Gerry Bertier, I knew that this situation was pure torture.

"Who's your daddy?" Coach Boone asked again.

"You," Gerry finally answered.

"And whose team is this? Is this your team, or is this your daddy's team?" Coach Boone furthered.

I looked to Coach who actually looked bothered by the situation. He looked down at me and wrapped an arm around my shoulder, pulling me closer to him. When Gerry finally answered Boone, he was told to put his jacket on and get on the bus. Ray was also told to fix his tie. I guess there was one thing for sure about Boone; he was going to be a stickler about things. As Bertier walked by I tried to make eye contact with him, so I could at least mouth an apology to him because I don't think one would physically make it from my lips. But he didn't even look my direction. Here I was feeling bad about this and he had to go and act like a jerk again.

I could feel a scowl beginning to spread on my face. Leave it to Bertier to make my emotions do a complete 180 in a matter of seconds. I leaned my head against Coach's shoulder when Coach Boone looked our way for a moment before he stepped onto the closest bus which was filled with the colored players. After a moment he stormed off the bus and all the players followed out. Then Boone walked over to the other bus which was filled with the white players. He stormed off that bus too with the white players following behind. In the pit of my stomach I could tell that something was happening, something that was going to cause quite a stir. The players rather reluctantly lined up outside the busses. Coach Boone walked back and forth in front of them. The look on his face was not a pleasant one and one could easily tell that he meant business.

"Listen up; I don't care if you're black, green, blue, white, or orange. I want all my defensive players on this side and all players going out for offense over here. Right now! Let's move! Let's move! Let's move! Let's move!" Coach Boone commanded.

I looked back up to Coach, who once again appeared to be biting his tongue. The players began to separate on each side of Coach Boone and not a single one of them looked happy about this. It's not like the hatred for each other was one sided, it came from all angles.

"You and you, offensive bus. Sit together," Coach Boone shouted at Kip Tyler and some colored boy.

I could feel the tensions beginning to escalade.

"You and you, defensive bus. Sit together," Coach Boone shouted to Alan and another colored boy.

"What do you think you're doing!" Fred Bosely shouted from the crowd.

But Mr. Bosely's attempt proved futile and ignored. Coach Boone continued to pair whites and coloreds as bus partners. And then the real kicker: the person Coach Boone paired them to sit with on the bus was going to be their roommate for the training camp. Coach told me to find my way to the defensive bus with Sheryl; but the thing was, I didn't know where she had run off to. I groaned and walked on the defensive bus to see if she was already there; but she wasn't. I hopped off the bus and headed for the other one. Knowing Sheryl, she was probably already scouting out the players.

I was almost to the other bus when I tripped over someone's duffel bag which caused me to practically fall on to one of the players. I carefully steadied myself again and took a step back when he turned around and flashed me a brilliant smile. He wasn't any player I had seen before; but then again, I only knew the white players because they were the ones I had watched play for years.

"Fallin' for me already," the boy grinned.

"I tripped," I blushed. "I'm sorry."

"I'm glad you did. I'm Petey and you are…" the boy began.

"The coach's daughter," Bertier interrupted appearing from nowhere.

"Boone's your daddy?" the boy named Petey asked.

"She belongs to Coach Yoast, you idiot, which is who she should be with right now," Bertier said.

Bertier looked at me pointedly and motioned for me to walk away. I folded my arms across my chest and glared at him.

"Don't tell me what to do," I told him stubbornly.

"Julie, just do as I say," Bertier commanded.

"I don't need you comin' to my rescue," I said sarcastically.

"Looks to me that you do," Bertier said.

At that moment I spotted Sheryl on the offensive team's bus just as I had predicted. I walked away toward the bus, but as I did, I could hear the beginning of Bertier's conversation with Petey.

"Stay away from her," Bertier hissed.

"Or what? Is she yours?" Petey questioned.

"No," Bertier answered. "But stay away from her."

"I heard you the first time," Petey retorted.

"Then you'll do well to do as I say," Bertier hissed.

"You sweet on her or something?" Petey questioned.

I was just about to step up onto the offensive bus when I turned around. I could see Bertier towering over Petey; but he looked over and we made eye contact. He gave me another look, which I knew meant to hurry up, before he lowered his voice to continue his conversation with Petey. He was making a big deal over nothing. I was the one that fell on Petey. He was just being friendly when Bertier had to swoop in and attempt to be some knight in shining armor, which he was the farthest thing from. I took a few steps onto the bus and yanked on one of Sheryl's braids, who was standing on the first seat, scouting out the offense. Sheryl yelped after I pulled her hair and turned around to look at me.

"We're on the other bus," I stated.

"I was just seein' what kind of prospects we have," Sheryl responded.

"I didn't ask what you were doing. I just said that we were on the other bus. Now, let's go," I said.

Sheryl looked at me before she sighed and scooted past me down the stairs and off the bus. She ran to the other bus; but I chose to walk and walk slowly because I could see that Bertier was still attempting to intimidate Petey. Although this showdown was more silent than the one before.

"Gerry, Julie, bus!" Coach called from the door to the bus.

Bertier looked to my daddy and nodded his head. Petey was already jogging to the offensive bus while Bertier stood there waiting for me. He bent down and picked up the duffel bag I had tripped on.

"Looks like I'm not the only one who doesn't follow directions," I stated.

"You need to be careful around them," Bertier responded.

"Lordy, I was the one that tripped on him over your duffel bag I might add," I retorted. "I was just tryin' to be nice and so was he."

"That animal was doin' a lot more than trying to be nice," Bertier argued.

"Says you," I hissed.

"I know these things and I can't always be lookin' out for you," Bertier said.

"I never asked you to," I argued.

Bertier threw his duffel bag under the bus before the driver slammed the door underneath shut. I tried to walk away, but Bertier wasn't done talking to me.

"You know, a simple 'thank you' would've been nice," Bertier continued.

I stopped walking until I was at the bottom step of the bus. Bertier stood right behind me and I turned around. I noticed the parents watching and a few of them waved. I waved back before I looked to Bertier.

"Thank you…for being a bigoted ass," I said through gritted teeth.

I immediately regretted my choice of words; but they were already out of my mouth. I swear Bertier drove me to do things against my own will. But I didn't wait for Bertier's response. Instead, I climbed the few stairs and found the seat I was going to share with Sheryl. Bertier followed behind but we didn't make eye contact again. I had to admit that I was curious to see who he had gotten paired with; I turned around and watched him walk toward the back of the bus. His bus partner looked just as stubborn and arrogant as he was. The colored boy had taken the aisle seat and refused to move for Bertier to take the window seat. With a scowl on his face, Bertier crawled over the person he had been paired with to sit in his window seat. He looked toward the front and right toward me, which caused me. I blushed at having been caught and instantly turned around. I reached for the backpack Sheryl and I had packed with snacks. I had placed an extra book in there, which I was now thankful for. I had something to occupy my attention than be forced to think about what had happened with Bertier. I flipped open _The Diary of a Young Girl_, a novel about Anne Frank and her story hiding in a concealed room from the Nazi's. I had read this for school once; but I figured it deserved a second read.

I was about one page into the book when the bus honked its horn and started to pull out of the parking lot. Funny how we weren't even on the road yet and things had already gotten interesting. I just hoped that tensions wouldn't remain high, especially like things were between Petey and Bertier right now. If things didn't change soon, they would never come together as a team, and they wouldn't win a damn game. Even though Coach was just the assistant, his reputation was still on the line. So I hoped these boys would put aside their differences, at least on the gridiron, and soon.

**Author's note: Thanks so much for the positive response to this little story! I really appreciate it and all of you who have been reading it.**

**Cpjjgj: I'm glad that you liked it. I wanted to dig a little more into the Gerry/Julie relationship…which I did this chapter too. I'm glad that you caught the connection between Julie/Sunshine throw. You're also welcome for the story. I was thinking the same thing…so that's why I wrote it!**

**DayDreamer1122: I'm glad that you like the Julie/Gerry moments. It's fun to get them riled up with each other. Right now, it's not lookin' like she has a problem with race…she's just mad that Boone took her father's job. And Gerry's already not happy that she's even talking to them.**

**Guest (1): Here's another chapter for you! Yes, we do love them! But she's going to have her work cut out for her…especially with how Gerry's acting about it. As far as who she makes Gerry jealous with…you'll just have to wait and see. Lol.**

**Guest (2): She hasn't had much of a chance to interact with the other players, besides Petey yet…and someone wasn't too happy about that.**

**Nerd4life: I'm glad that you found my little story! I'm also glad that you've found the humor in it. As far as Julie goes, I have to say that she's one of my OC's closest to me right now. I really love her. I plan on continuing this story until it's done!**

**Guest (3): I'm so thankful that you appreciate that I'm taking it slow! Phew! I didn't want them to fall in love right away, because like you said things kinda get boring. So thanks for reviewing!**

Can we get more than 6 reviews? Haha. You guys have been awesome so far.


	6. Settling in

I exhaled deeply as the bus came to a stop in the parking lot of Gettysburg College. The place that was going to be my personal hell for the next week. I closed my book as I could hear the boys rustling in the back of the bus pulling their suit coats back on. I was thankful I had chosen my sleeveless, knee-length floral print dress with this God-damn heat. I couldn't imagine having to wear the layers the boys did, but then again, I did get to witness Bertier struggle with the heat. The thought brought a smirk to my face. At least there was one positive thought about the week; I could enjoy watching Bertier suffer. I know it's not very Christian-like or anything, but I was pretty sure God would make an exception this time. I slipped my book back into my bag and turned to my right to find that Sheryl had already disappeared from the seat beside me. But before I could even stand-up, I received a gentle tap on my shoulder. I turned to find one of the colored boys going out for the team looking for my attention.

"Miss you can go on out, ladies first," the boy said politely.

The white former Hammond player who stood behind him roughly pushed the colored boy and told him not to be touching a white girl. I rolled my eyes. Honestly, it was a friendly gesture. It's not like he harassing me or anything. I sent the boy I had known for several years a sharp glance before I stood up. I then patted the colored boy's hand, which rested on the back of the seat I had been sitting in.

"Thank you," I said sweetly.

I moved to slide out and into the walkway when I locked eyes with Bertier who had a sour look on his face. Seeing as he was close to the back of the bus and any retort I had would be heard by all the players, I refrained. I simply flipped my hair and walked off the bus. I walked over to where Coach stood with Coach Tyrell and Sheryl. Sheryl was leaning against Coach who had an arm wrapped around her. I flicked the back of Sheryl's ear with my finger, causing her to sharply straighten.

"What was that for?" Sheryl hissed.

"I don't have to give you a reason," I said.

"Jerk," Sheryl muttered.

The boys loaded off the bus. Clearly, they still disgruntled about the situation of their seating/housing assignments. As they walked into the parking lot, they began to huddle in their segregated groups waiting to get their suitcases and duffle bags from under the bus. It seemed like forever when Coach Boone whistled for everyone to follow him after the bags had been distributed. As we started to walk across the parking lot toward the cement walkway, I struggled to carry my suitcase. I mentally chastised myself for bringing so many damn books; but I already had troubles narrowing my selections down this far. The boys could see me struggling as they walked past me. They were either laughing at my expense, like Ray, or giving me looks of pity like the colored boy I had met earlier, Petey.

"I can carry that for you if you'd like, Miss Julie," Petey smiled.

I should have accepted his help; but much like my daddy, I was too proud to seek help unless I absolutely needed it.

"No thanks," I responded.

"You sure?" Petey furthered.

"You heard her," Ray said from behind us.

Petey looked behind us to see Ray picking up his pace. From the look on Ray's face, I knew he meant business and Petey must have too because he sped up to join a group of his friends in front of us. I tried to walk faster, but my suitcase was holding me back and soon Ray was at my side. I took one look at him before I looked ahead again. I knew I should keep my mouth shut; but there was a big difference between knowing and doing; and I knew myself well enough to know that I couldn't refrain from attempting to bust Ray.

"You doing Bertier's dirty work now?" I snipped.

"We don't want you getting hurt," Ray said.

"You and I both know Bertier doesn't give a damn," I retorted.

Ray looked at me for a second and didn't respond to my statement. He then reached his hand close to me for my suitcase. His hand clasped the handle which I attempted to pull away from him.

"Like I told Petey, I got it," I hissed.

"Just let me get it," Ray hissed back.

"I'm perfectly capable…" I began. "I'm not some damsel in distress."

Ray released her suitcase and put his hands up in defense.

"Gerry's right, that attitude of yours is why you don't have any friends," Ray said.

He then started to walk away. I swear that boy pissed me off just as much as Bertier did, but Ray had always acted this way toward me. He hadn't befriended me once upon a time and then completely abandoned me. Ray on the other hand should learn to use his own brain and not let Bertier do all his thinking for him. Sometimes I thought that Ray didn't lack a single original thought. Well, needless to say, I lost my cool…again.

"I have friends," I shouted.

Ray turned around to look at me before he chuckled, shook his head, and walked away. I could feel the eyes of the other boys staring at me which caused me to blush. There I go, embarrassing myself and this time it wasn't even caused by Bertier. Well, technically, I could pin it on him; seeing as he did most of Ray's thinking for him. Sheryl looked to me with a look of disbelief.

"I have friends," I repeated for her.

"Who?" Sheryl asked.

"People," I muttered.

"I haven't seen you with a single person beside me, Coach, and the boys on the team this summer," Sheryl responded.

"I have responsibilities that keep me busy," I said. "Taking care of you and Coach isn't easy, you know."

"That's a stupid excuse and you know it," Sheryl scoffed.

"Don't say _stupid_," I reprimanded.

"You're not my mom," Sheryl retorted rolling her eyes.

"I—"I began.

"No you're not. She's coming to get us when camp is done," Sheryl interrupted.

"If she actually comes this time," I muttered.

Even though I already was refusing to go with my mama, I wasn't too confident that she'd actually show this time. I remember sitting on the front porch with Sheryl countless times waiting for the woman to show up. We'd wait on the porch until it was long past dark and Coach would tell us to come inside. She would conveniently forget that she was supposed to come get us. While Sheryl naively bought this excuse I knew better. I knew that Mama was too busy boozing or hung-over to come get us. I didn't expect this time to be any different, even though we were hours closer to her. Not that I wanted to see the woman who abandoned us. Unlike Sheryl, I had gotten over the hope of a happy ending with my mother. It was natural for a child to think that that their parents would get back together in the end. I outgrew that and honestly, I didn't want her coming anywhere near Coach because I knew she would just hurt him again.

Coach Boone led the group to Huber Hall, where they would be lodging for the duration of the camp. A representative from the college met them on the stone stairs up to the building. Apparently, the rooms available to them had been unlocked. They would all be on the second floor with amenities including two bathrooms and one telephone. The man led the group inside the building and upstairs. Coach Boone thanked the man before he started giving out room assignments. Every colored player was assigned a room with a white player, with some rooms having doubles. When all the boys had been given their rooms Coach Boone turned to Coach, Sheryl, and me.

"Room on the end is reserved for the Yoast family," Coach Boone said.

I turned to my right to see Sheryl opening the door and squealing at the sight of the room. She had been begging Coach for years for a bunk bed; but he had yet to give in. I was about to go into the room behind Coach, but then I remembered that it had been a long ride in which I had consumed the container of water I had packed for the ride. I turned around to see that there was a bathroom right behind me, but I saw Gerry walk into it.

"Coach Boone," I called.

Coach Boone was about to go into his own room when he stopped suddenly and turned to me.

"Where might I find a ladies room?" I asked.

Coach Boone looked to be chuckling to himself before he walked into the room that was going to be his. I groaned and stomped toward the dormitory I would live in for the next week. I didn't even notice Coach Boone walk out of his room with a piece of paper headed right toward me. He taped the piece of paper to the door and turned around to watch me struggling with my suit case.

"Miss Yoast!" Coach Boone called.

I looked to Coach Boone who pointed to a handmade sign posted on the bathroom door that read "Ladies" when Bertier walked out of the door. Bertier was about to walk back to his room when Coach Boone grabbed him by his collar, causing him to jerk back. Bertier looked confusedly at Coach Boone, which I couldn't help but chuckle at. Boone pointed once more to the homemade sign, which Bertier looked at before looking at me. He shook his head and walked back down the hallway to his dormitory.

"Thank you," I grinned.

"Not so fast, Miss Yoast, I have something I'm going to ask of you," Coach Boone said.

"What do you want?" I asked.

Coach Boone motioned for me to follow him. We walked down the hallway a few feet until we can to an odd colored floorboard. It was much lighter than the rest of the flooring. Coach Boone's foot started to tap that board. I looked down at it and then looked back to him.

"Yes?" I asked.

"You see this floorboard?" Coach Boone asked.

"The one your foot seems awfully fond of? Then, yeah," I said.

"This here floorboard is what's going to separate you from my team. You will not cross that line. There is absolutely no reason for you to cross this line. If you cross this line, I will know and I will not hesitate…" Coach Boone said seriously.

"You could've left it at 'do not cross this line,'" I smarted back. "I'm not five."

"I'm glad we could have this understanding," Coach Boone stated before walking away.

The man walked into his room and I turned around to use the ladies room. I then walked into the dormitory I was sharing with my father and sister. We had two bunk beds in the room. Just as I had predicted, Sheryl had already taken one of the top bunks. Coach had taken the bottom bunk below Sheryl's bed leaving me my choice of either bed against the other wall. Coach suggested going for a walk around the campus before dinner. Sheryl took him up on his offer, but I declined because I wanted to get settled. Coach seemed to understand and he left the room taking Sheryl with him. I collapsed on the bottom bunk and closed my eyes. So, I may have told a white lie to Coach. I really wanted a nap, but couldn't a nap be considered getting settled? I was almost asleep until I heard Alan shouting from down the hall.

"Fight!" Alan shouted.

I groaned as I slowly got up and poked my head out the door. I looked down the hallway and listened to the shouts. I looked at the boys beginning to push themselves toward one of the room. I'll admit it, I was curious. I wanted to know who was fighting. So I conveniently forgot about the line Coach Boone drew for me and headed down the hallway. I'm sure if there was an exception to that rule of his, this was going to be it. I stopped outside the room everyone was crowding around before I pushed myself through the crowd of boys. To my surprise, I found that Bertier had his roommate tackled against a bed and was punching his face. As much as I'd like to see Bertier getting punched, this was just plain stupid. They were acting like a bunch of five year olds. Hell, maybe even younger. Like I had seen Coach Boone do earlier, I pulled at Bertier's collar causing him to fling around with his fist ready to punch me. His eyes widened at the sight of me.

"Julie?" Bertier said confusedly.

"What are you gonna do, punch me?" I scoffed.

The fight raged on around us as Bertier fumbled for words holding his fist in the air as if he was still ready to strike.

"You're all dumb-asses," I sneered.

I roughly pushed him against his chest which caused him to fall onto the bed where Ray was already squabbling with one of the colored boys. I rolled my eyes and began stomping for the door. Without looking up, I ran right into someone standing there sternly. Much to my surprise, I found Coach Boone standing there like a statue with a very pissed-off look on his face. I muttered an unladylike obscenity as I attempted to side step the man; but much to my dismay he didn't budge.

"Dining Hall, now!" Coach Boone shouted.

I moved to walk past him, but he took a step to block my path.

"I mean everyone," Boone said.

"But I…" I began.

"You crossed my line," Boone drawled.

"But there was…" I began again.

"You crossed my line," Boone repeated.

"What'd you want me to do, let them kill each other?" I scoffed.

"You crossed my line when I very specifically told you not to," Boone stated. "Dining Hall now!"

Coach Boone sharply turned on his heel and walked down the hall as the boys looked to each other. Looks of confusion and anger spread across their faces as they slowly started to trickle out of the room. I walked into the hallway, dreading going downstairs. When Coach found out… but I didn't get any time to dwell on the situation when I felt my arm being grabbed. I turned to find Bertier looking to get my attention. I sneered at him as I continued walking with the crowd, headed for the stairs.

"What the hell were you thinkin'?" Bertier hissed.

"You're welcome," I retorted.

"You could've…" he began.

"You gotta learn not to make everyone else's business your own," I hissed. "And you think I'm the one with the messed up priorities."

I then walked away from him before I said something I'd really regret. But that was the thing about Bertier; he was always getting me to say the things I wanted to despite propriety and such. I cut between several players until I was heading down the stairs. Coach and Sheryl stood downstairs with confused looks on the faces as Boone motioned for them to follow.

"What's goin' on?" Coach asked me.

"The boys were fightin'," I said, purposely putting emphasis on their wrong and not my own.

Coach looked at me like he wasn't completely buying my story; but he followed anyway. Coach Boone led us outside and across the campus. We walked into the Dining Hall and Coach Boone walked to the front. The boys once again separated themselves into blacks and whites; which I could tell Boone wasn't too happy about.

"Bunch of tough guys, huh?" Coach Boone began. "You look like a bunch of fifth-grade sissies after a cat fight."

Coach Boone stopped in front of Bertier's roommate who looked beyond pissed off.

"You got anger." Boone began. "That's good. You're gonna need it, son. You got aggression. That's even better. You're gonna need that, too; but any little 2-year-old child can throw a fit. Football is about controlling that anger. Harnessing that aggression into a team effort to achieve perfection! Some coaches, they cut a player if they think he's not up to snuff. When they think he's hurting the team."

I looked across the boys during Boone's speech. They still all looked pissed to be here. Many of them stood there with their arms folded across their chests, trying to play the tough guy and come off better than their teammates of another color. My eyes flickered toward Bertier, who stood beside Ray and Alan. He looked at me for a second before I quickly tore my gaze away and looked at Boone once more.

"This is a public school program. I will never, ever cut a player who comes out to play for me. But when you put that uniform on, that Titan uniform, you better come to work," Boone started again. "We will be perfect…in every aspect of the game. You drop a pass, you run a mile. You miss a blocking assignment, you run a mile. You fumbled the football, and I will break my foot off in your John Brown hindparts…and then you will run a mile."

My eyes widened at the last part. This guy seemed crazy. I almost felt bad for the boys, even Bertier. Part of me wondered if they were even going to survive this camp. What with Boone ready to kick them in the ass and the fact that the colored and white players could hardly stand each other; this seemed doomed for failure.

"Perfection!" Boone shouted. "Let's go to work."

Boone clapped his hands before he shouted his instructions for the boys to get ready for practice. Coach gently pushed Sheryl toward me as he walked over to Coach Boone.

"Boone, I think you're bein' a little hard…" Coach began.

"Sometimes, it's what they need," Boone said. "And I think your daughter could benefit from it as well."

"Well, Sheryl…" Coach started to come up with an excuse.

"I'm referring to the other one," Boone drawled.

"Julie," Coach said looking straight at me.

"She's distracting my players, something I will not tolerate," Boone said.

It looked like Coach was debating defending me for a moment, but he bit his tongue. Boone told my daddy that he'd meet him outside and walked away. Coach walked back over to Sheryl and I and the look on his face wasn't hard to miss. I could tell he wasn't amused and wasn't going to buy anything I would tell him, truth or lie.

"Coach…" I began.

"Julie, I don't wanna hear it," Coach said. "I need you on your best behavior."

"But I didn't…" I started again.

"I don't have time for this right now. I need to get out to the field," Coach said.

I rolled my eyes before I stomped upstairs to the dormitory I'd be staying in. At least in there I wouldn't be a damn distraction. As interested as I was in how the boys were going to play together, I much preferred to have Boone off my ass, so I stayed in my room and read. I'd stay there until it was time for dinner and maybe even for the duration of the camp. I knew that I'd probably only be able to get away with hiding out until dinner because then Coach would probably call me out for not keeping a closer eye on Sheryl. Either way, just as I had predicted this football camp was going to be my personal hell on earth.

**Author's Note: Sorry for such a short chapter, with not a whole lot going on; but Wow, such a fantastic response to my story….thanks! Now it's my turn to apologize for such a wait. Parents, I tell you…taking away internet privileges so you can study for your finals. Who do they think they are? haha Thankfully, now it is finally summer! So, here's to updating a little more regularly! And hopefully getting into a better groove of writing because I wasn't very pleased with this chapter, but I figured my lovely readers deserved another chapter. Thanks to those of you who have favorited/ followed my little story: newty01, imnotokay, emmetluver2010, XOXOSorry-I-Don't-Do-DrugsXOXO, missbrooked, PunkPinkJesusFreak, okgurls87, kAsS3695, keykeybaby6, and lilycullen1997 :D**

**DayDreamer1122:** I'm glad that you like it! I'm sure she's bound to makes some friends…seeing as she's realizing that she doesn't really have many. As far as another love interest besides Gerry, there will be a little. :D Thanks for the review and I apologize for the long wait!

**Guest (1):** I'm flattered that you enjoy my story! I'm trying to get a feel for the tension between Gerry and Julie…which Petey definitely helped create more. Sorry it took so long to update!

**Cpjjgj:** Yay! You're still loving it! It really means a lot to me that one of my favorite authors likes my story! Really, I love your writing and I'm kinda surprised that you're liking mine!

**Guest (2): **Sorry it took so long! Thanks for the review!

**Guest (3):** I'm humbled that you love it!

**Emmettluver2010: ** You like it! Yay! It really means a lot that you like my little story! Sorry it took so long to update. Thanks for the review!

**Misbrooked:** I love that you love it! Sorry it took so long to update and I appreciate your review!

**CeCe17:** I'm glad that you got hooked on my story! Haha. I appreciate that you like that I'm taking things slow. That's something I was really going for. I didn't want to rush things. So, I appreciate that you understand that. Thanks for your review!

**Imnotokaay: **Even though it is your name…I hope you're okay ;) I'm flattered that you love my story and I am continuing to write it! But parents get in the way as I said in the above authors note. Haha. I also realized the same thing about RtT ff which is why I decided to write one. I also wanted to make sure that I left room for character growth, especially with Gerry and Julie. I wanted it somewhat realistic. Haha. Thanks for your lovely review! I really appreciate it and I hope my rambling in response was okay. :D

**Rocketflame1984:** I really like that you like my story! I'm updating now…WAY later than I originally intended to, but parents…haha. So, I do have every intention to finish this story! Really, I do. And if it ever gets more than a month between updates (because I may be going on vacation sometime) you have my permission to haunt me! Haha. Thanks for the review!

**Daneca: **I'm glad that you like my story and that it's one of your favorite Remember the Titans stories! I really appreciate it! Thanks for the review!


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